A wealthy Black enclave isn't what it seems in this psychological thriller.Jasmyn Williams, the protagonist of Yoon's fourth novel (and first for adults), has just moved with her husband, Kingston, and 6-year-old son, Kamau, to Liberty, a community of McMansions in suburban Los Angeles launched by a billionaire entrepreneur and tailored to affluent Black people. Jasmyn, who's pregnant, wants Liberty to be a stable perch from which to support the community beyond its gates-she's a public defender working with underprivileged clients, and Kingston is a venture capitalist who mentors at-risk youth. But most of Jasmyn's fellow Liberty-ites are oddly skittish about activism or even discussing the case of a 4-year-old Black girl shot by a white police officer. Even Kingston, whose brother died at the hands of a white cop, is standoffish, retreating to Liberty's "wellness center" for bespoke spa treatments. Increasingly, Jasmyn feels like an outsider, both because of her pregnancy and statements that increasingly get her deemed "blacker than thou"-who is she to judge a friend's decision to relax her hair or pass on joining a Black Lives Matter chapter? Though Yoon's story relates to current conversations around race, its tropes hark back to 1970s pod-people horror, particularly Ira Levin novels like Rosemary's Baby and The Stepford Wives. (Those tropes were themselves reworked in films like Get Out.) It's clear early on that this "Black utopia" is not what it seems, but Yoon is skilled at sustaining the tension throughout Jasmyn's investigations, exposing the ways that Black communities are undermined both internally and externally. It's an artful page-turning thriller, but constantly mindful that decisions about community and identity can put lives at stake.A bracing tale of the perils of groupthink and willful ignorance.

A wealthy Black enclave isn't what it seems in this psychological thriller.Jasmyn Williams, the protagonist of Yoon's fourth novel (and first for adults), has just moved with her husband, Kingston, and 6-year-old son, Kamau, to Liberty, a community of McMansions in suburban Los Angeles launched by a billionaire entrepreneur and tailored to affluent Black people. Jasmyn, who's pregnant, wants Liberty to be a stable perch from which to support the community beyond its gates-she's a public defender working with underprivileged clients, and Kingston is a venture capitalist who mentors at-risk youth. But most of Jasmyn's fellow Liberty-ites are oddly skittish about activism or even discussing the case of a 4-year-old Black girl shot by a white police officer. Even Kingston, whose brother died at the hands of a white cop, is standoffish, retreating to Liberty's "wellness center" for bespoke spa treatments. Increasingly, Jasmyn feels like an outsider, both because of her pregnancy and statements that increasingly get her deemed "blacker than thou"-who is she to judge a friend's decision to relax her hair or pass on joining a Black Lives Matter chapter? Though Yoon's story relates to current conversations around race, its tropes hark back to 1970s pod-people horror, particularly Ira Levin novels like Rosemary's Baby and The Stepford Wives. (Those tropes were themselves reworked in films like Get Out.) It's clear early on that this "Black utopia" is not what it seems, but Yoon is skilled at sustaining the tension throughout Jasmyn's investigations, exposing the ways that Black communities are undermined both internally and externally. It's an artful page-turning thriller, but constantly mindful that decisions about community and identity can put lives at stake.A bracing tale of the perils of groupthink and willful ignorance.